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Later that day, things happened at a rather strange pace. Jon delivered seven assassins who made an attempt on him and injured Miranda. The Clan Heads and the Businessmen of Winterhold attempted to conduct a hasty investigation but not many results were found.

Jullanar got news of the accident and dispatched three agents of "Team Zero" to investigate. A few traces were found about the seven individuals entering Winterhold separately from two different locations the other day. Who they were and where they came from was still a mystery.

Jon was feeling royally pissed for Miranda sustaining a minor injury. These assassins were exceptionally skilled to a frightening point as Miranda wouldn't have the ability to take seven of them alone. The way they hid their presence and the skill they displayed as well as the well-made weapons and the poison on the blade. They were just too damn ready.

Who could have trained Seven like those? That was a question that clouded Jon's mind for a while. He closed his eyes and revised the moment again and again in his head.

He was walking, Miranda was beside him on the right, he was pointing at some things and showing her around Saarthal before they headed to the Tower. She leaned towards him for a bit and that's when it happened as he was distracted with her sensation against him…

"Pause!"

"Isolate the distractive sensations. No wind, no sound, no feeling."

"Replay from the start again and focus on the motions of Magicka."

Jon gave three commands in his Mind Space making the image turn into a world of grids and numbers.

A perfect image came for seven individuals moving in an absolute unison as if their minds were made to think as one. Perfect teamwork, good stealth, the seven clearly were very close to each other to the point where they can communicate with the simplest motions of their bodies.

One from the front. Four from behind. Two on the buildings from each side.

Arrows were shot as starting signals… No! Not the arrows. The man in the front lowered his head down just a tiny bit then the arrows were shot. That man was the leader. Young… almost the same age as Jon.

He wasn't just the lead but also a decoy. After the arrows were shot, two knives were thrown at Jon and Miranda carrying a very faint and stealthy Aura.

Detecting four projectiles, Jon was already in battle mode. He deflected an arrow, pushed Miranda down, she slid forward towards the assassin leaders throwing the knives, avoiding them and attacking him. Jon ignored the other arrow and evaded the knives as he locked on the archers but all of a sudden, he was attacked from eight different angles by the four assassins in the rear.

It was the most beautiful and perfect assassination plan Jon ever saw. Four projectiles were a decoy to cover four killing intents from the back which came as eight lethal attacks with skillfully made and enchanted daggers. Anti-Magic enchantments… very dangerous.

Anti-Magic only works to cancel any magic protection such as Wards, Armor Spells, Aura Protection and Defense Enchantments.

However, the eight daggers were useless against [Greed]. Seeing the daggers being taken away, the Assassin's retreated while at the same time, Miranda finished off the leader and sustained a scratch on her shoulder.

The four at the rear didn't even blink an eye and turned their tail to run but Jon wouldn't let that happen. As he went ahead to chase, the assassins realized he was catching up so they spread out with their killing intent directed towards the civilians.

Seeing that he won't capture them unless he makes a civilian sacrifice, Jon switched from capturing to killing. Nefertiti and Wrath moved in an instant killing an Archer and three from the four rear assassins. Jon chased one of the archers who was about to shoot a child and cut an arm then teleported towards the last assassin cutting his legs but the Assassin tried to fight and died. As Jon returned to capture the last remaining archer, he found him choking on his own blood with his throat slit and a dagger in his hands.

"Pause!"

Jon observed the look in the eyes of that archer and separated his consciousness from his past image contemplating and thinking.

Why would anyone do that?

Certainly not the fear of capture. Attacking someone like him comes with the risk of capture but those people were following a program. Attack, if failed, escape, if failed, distract by attacking civilians, if failed, take your own life.

People who end up killing themselves do it for one reason and that is desperation. Desperation from life, desperation for life, desperate for other's lives… and the list goes on.

To train an assassin to such a degree requires a lot of time and ruthlessness. First, kill their self worth, torture them day and night until they lose hope; Second, plant the seed of hope in them by convincing then that you are their only hope; Third, tell them to kill themselves and they will die without a question.

Only monsters would make people do things like that. Jon wouldn't think too much about a low-life assassin killing himself neither it was the first time he saw such a thing but now he thought deeply about it and listed his enemies in his mind and nothing matched their style.

He then thought of them being Vampire Thralls but there are no mind control magic traces on them. The other bet would be the Cultists of Miraak but Solstheim is very quiet still.

It was then when it occurred to him.

A New Enemy.

Something that never appeared in the game. A story that wasn't told.

Now that he thought of it this way, he finally started asking the right question.

Who Dares?

Not a long list… but a thrilling one that includes all sorts of unknown variables. It can't be that everything will unfold like the game, can it now?

"Jonhild!"

Jon opened his eyes all of a sudden as a voice called him from his state of deep thoughts.

"Father-in-law?"

"You are awfully quiet."

"Just thinking." Jon replied and took a deep breath as he saw the faces around him.

"I hope there are more results." He spoke.

"Not much, Boss. We barely found traces of them entering the town, that's all. Further than that, we couldn't trace them on the main road." A Team Zero Agent disguised as a Dare Trooper gave Jon a report.

Jon skimmed through the report then returned it.

"You can stop the search then. They seemed to have been teleported from far away to someplace outside the city. They stayed for a long time in these locations until the traces of the Teleportation magic faded away and then attacked me." Jon looked at the seven corpses then nodded, "Give them burial in nameless graves with the rest of the criminals but take drawings of their faces first."

With the mystery being unsolvable, Jon looked around and spoke in a friendly manner.

"It is a shame this is how the day started but thankfully nothing bad happened. I thank you all for coming today, friends and Kinsmen."

Having a more approachable air now, the others finally talked to him and introduced themselves and their sons and aides. Once that was done, Jon was guided by Sigurd to sit with the Elders.

The Great Hall was a Nordic stone hall with two long dining tables on the sides and a central one on a stage at the innermost area of the room, the place where the Elders sit. Jon came from the side and tried to sit right at the edge of the central table but Tyr took the place and told him to go further to the Middle, each one of his uncles refused to let him sit at the sides until he took the central seat which was exactly between Tormund and Sigurd, the Patriarchs of the two great clans. There was no leeway from sitting between his grandfather and his father-in-law who both insisted that Jon would be in the center of the event.

It is unusual for the third generation to take the central spot like this but if anyone deserved it in this room, it is only him.

There were many reasons Jon avoided the center position. He liked being a leader in business and mischief but not in war or governance. He is born under the stars of the Serpent and it is known that those who are born under this sign are the most blessed and the most cursed, a trait that disqualifies many from inheriting leadership titles.

Either way, the Council of the Clans of Winterhold had to begin with Jon receiving the warm welcomes from all clan representatives who came to attend.

Some may argue that this Council is the true leadership of Winterhold but the attending parties were smart enough to not act that way. This is simply a gathering of allied clans who share common interests. The true leadership is still that of the Jarl.

If they were by any chance conveying the wrong image here, they may be taken as rebels towards the legal and rightful authority of the Jarl of Winterhold which will give their political enemies a solid proof of incrimination in a court of higher authority. And speaking of political enemies, two dejected Imperials were cast off in a corner while the Nords were having fun talking shit about the whole world in general.

"Lord Jon, we already know that you are assisting the Dragonborn, will we get to meet him at some point?" Jarvin son Harmon Blackblade asked.

"Let me correct you, please… We are all assisting the Dragonborn. It is our sacred duty as Nords. If a Dragon decides to attack Winterhold, we can indeed ward it back but only a Dragonborn can put it down for good. That's why we will assist him in his endeavor to ward the innocents from the horrors of Dragons. Whiterun did it, we will do it, and soon all of Skyrim will sober up from pity struggles to face one true enemy." Jon said.

"Well said, your Lordship. The War and the Dragons are more than what Skyrim can take… especially Winterhold." Orga Stormfist spoke, "We have been building villages and towns for the past half a year nonstop for the poor refugees. The land is changing and new minor clans are even rising."

"That is a good thing, Lady Stormfist. We should focus on helping out Kinsmen and even the outlanders who ended up here seeking refuge." Jon nodded.

The ones Jon spoke to at first were the ones who needed to be assured that they are on his good side, the Bannermen. One of the themes of the Bannermen is how they address Jon as "Lord".

On the other hand, there are the Shield-Thanes.

"Boss!"

"Ongeim my old friend. How are things?"

"Alright, Boss. The seas are fair and the ghosts were silent for the past three days. Don't know what upset them though." Ongeim replied while eyeing the Imperials.

"Hahaha! They are my ships but it is your sea, my friend. I trust that your journeys to Vvardenfell were successful." Jon asked.

"Indeed, Boss. House Redoran has given us all the blessings even though their taxes are a bit… stingy."

"I can live with that, what matters is the New Route."

"Aye!"

Jon and Ongeim were speaking about business regularly but they made it sound interesting for the others. A New Route means a lot of Wealth and everyone here is a merchant. Jon was simply making a teaser for the new trade route between Winterhold and Mournhold. Two devastated cities that were once the capitals of their respective nations.

Jon turned from Ongeim and looked at Elishka, another figure from the Shield-Thanes.

"Elishka."

"B- B- Boss…" Elishka stood with a worried face.

The beautiful woman seemed to be concerned about her weight now that she had indulged herself in delicacies for the past two years.

"How is the money flow?" Jon asked.

"It is good finally… after the war started, we had a shortage of everything but now that Winterhold became more stable, it is all coming together back again."

"Just what I wanted to hear." Jon nodded for her to sit.

"Thanks, Boss."

The money is good, the trade is good. The next phase wouldn't even be suspected one bit.

Now that Jon acted as the center of the gathering. He kept reviewing the issues in the Hold and offering solutions of all kinds. He may have a reputation of being bloodthirsty but his skill in playing City Sims is never to be looked down upon.

As the sun sat, Jon finally gave the signal and the servants came in with hordes and hordes of food and liquor. Winterhold is now rich and fancy despite its hard nature, quite the opposite of the game, of course. The Imperials dined with the Nords waiting for Jon to address them but he never gave them any attention. Everyone is fully aware that these are emissaries at the end of the day.

It was until the end of the party when the female emissary was done with it. She suddenly stood up from her seat and walked to the Elders table area.

"Thane Jonhild." She spoke.

Jon had a goblet covering his face as he drank it all in one go and slammed it on the table.

"Now I'm tipsy! Go on, Spy." Jon said and the others around him laughed.

Earlier this day, he was in a mode where he didn't give a skeever's ass about anything and he called the emissaries spies. It was a bit awkward but no shame about it.

"I beg your pardon, Thane Jonhild, but we are not Spies…" The woman said.

"That's what a spy would say." Jon replied.

"It isn't…" The woman felt Jon was not giving her any leeways so she took a deep breath, "My name is Julia Dio and I am the Legate of the Imperial Legion regarding Diplomatic Conversations. In other words…"

"A Military Attaché with the rank of a Lieutenant General, right? Still, at such a young age… impressive!" Jon concluded.

Julia narrowed her eyes from Jon's sharp observation. He hit the nail on its head pretty accurately.

"How did you know?" She asked.

"Easy." Jon smiled, "It is the lowest required rank to do negotiations. Also, your friend there is not the type to shut up around anyone unless they are superior to him in rank. Isn't that right, Legate Sulla?"

Seeing Jon directly speak to the other Imperial, everyone realized that there is something fishier than it should be. Even Legate Julia looked back at Legate Sulla with questioning eyes."

Legate Sulla stood up and walked beside Legate Julia glaring at Jon as if they are enemies from their past lives.

"Jon Dare." He spoke greeting Jon not minding the titles.

"It's been long. You too returned to Winterhold, huh?"

Jon's familiarity with Sulla Trebatius was old and their relationship was antagonistic against each other. Sulla Trebatius was the former leader of the Imperial Forces in Winterhold, a man who overlooked the corruption of Jarl Korir at one time and demanded many supplies from Winterhold at another while trying to make personal gains by treasure-hunting around Winterhold. Jon always made sure that Sulla Trebatius doesn't get what he's after and got rid of him after the Battle of Winterhold.

"It is Legate Sentinel now." Legate Sulla said.

"Is that so? An underqualified Legate Sentinel and an unappreciated Legate Diplomat. You two make a terrible Spy duo."

Jon insulted the two bluntly, especially Legate Sulla who kept himself firm just because of the mission he is on. Seeing Jon having fun, Legate Julia needed to address him directly once and for all.

"Thane Jonhild, you called us Spies then unappreciated and underqualified. Is there any way for us to clear that out of the way so that we can conduct official business?" She asked sternly.

"Ah! See? Underappreciated… I am right." Jon pointed at her and laughed, "You want to know how I knew?"

She remained silent not confirming his words.

"Alright. Let's see… your name is Julia Dio. Dio is your surname, right? That's not a Noble Name so you must be a Commoner. You are very high ranked in the Legion being a Lieutenant General at such a very young age and you're even a diplomat despite being a Commoner… does it fit together? You can't have so much achievement unless you are deeply connected but you are clearly unappreciated which means you are not connected… another contradiction! How do I know you are unappreciated? Easy, you were dispatched to Winterhold with that guy. Someone wants to see your diplomatic mission to Winterhold fail. So a Commoner Legate Diplomat on a Terrible Diplomatic Mission… unappreciated is the right term.

Wait! There is more, I can't stop at this point.

There are two cases here. The case in which your surname is truly Dio, a Commoner who climbed the ranks mysteriously. Only one division in the Empire would allow that to happen and that is the Penitus Oculatus, the Royal Guard and the Spy Network of the Empire which eventually means you are a Spy. The other case is that your surname isn't truly Dio and my profile was wrong all along… Still, a false surname is very Spy."

Jon's terrifying profiling ability caused everyone in the Great Hall to be stunned. He didn't just see through the woman but he completely analyzed every detail just from the fact that the surname she presented was that of a commoner.

The crowd was terrified and the two Imperials realized the fact that Jon Dare was playing them like children. Diplomat? What is that? This guy read them and understood the nature of their mission without effort. Still, Julia was terrified the most.

"This is amazing!" Sigurd Moonblade exclaimed and looked at Jon, "I mean… I knew there was something off but I couldn't point it out… wait? Did you two think the same?"

Sigurd turned for Jonrad and Tyr who cleared their throats and nodded while looking away.

"Of course."

"Naturally."

Jon turned to them with a cold stare.

"Liars." He said.

"Tsk!" Jonrad clicked his tongue and looked dejected at Jon, "Alright, but there is something wrong with your analysis, son."

"And what is that?"

"She can't be a Penitus Oculatus Agent. It is a very strict rule that Imperial Agents must not pose as Peace Emissaries, Priests or normal Messengers. People must have trust in those three types thus no Agents are allowed to pose as them." Jonrad declared the loophole in Jon's theory.

"That… That's right." Legate Julia confirmed right away.

"Oh, please. This only means you are not a Penitus Oculatus Agent but it doesn't mean you are not a Spy." Tyr said.

"But I am not…"

"Hold up!" Jon raised his hand for everyone to stop talking.

His eyes moved too fast as if he was looking for an answer in the surroundings until he finally stopped and smiled in a nasty way.

"You guys will love this one, hahaha!" He said and got off his seat, "Dio is not your surname, you are not a Penitus Oculatus and you are not a Commoner… or even a spy

Let's see… you're an Imperial, not a Colovian or a Nibenese. You are half Imperial to your mother's side but your other half is Breton to your father's because you are a tad short. The way you speak is refined which may seem because you are a Diplomat but no… you grew up in High Society and it appears in the way you dress and walk. You indeed had connections that helped you to rise up to the rank of a Lieutenant General which is not something any normal connections can do. The only reason for a person with your status to join the Legion is to gain experience or get away from the bloodthirsty Breton politics. You are… you are Royal Blood."

Jon laid it out plain and simple then concentrated on Julia's reactions.

"Northpoint, Jehanna, Daggerfall, Wayrest, Camlarn… wait! It is Daggerfall, you reacted to it." Jon jumped off from his place and landed in front of the platform, "Ladies and Gentlemen, Princess Julia of Daggerfall is in Saarthal's Great Hall. Stand the fuck up, where are your manners?"

Jon was at the peak of his satisfaction as he completely exposed the truth about Legate Julia. A Breton Princess in an Imperial Clothing, now that is an interesting story.

The Princess, on the other hand, was facing the disaster of her life. Being exposed by a Nord politician like that was the worst-case scenario for an Imperial/Breton Diplomat. What he said is true from A to Z. She is indeed a Royal Princess from High Rock thus she gained the rank of a Lieutenant General as long as she works as a High Ranking diplomat and a Peace Negotiator away from the battlefield. She left Daggerfall to be away from the fight over the throne and to gain achievements in the Empire to secure herself a noble rank and not end up as a political wedding bargain chip the next King of Daggerfall controls. As she kept her identity a secret to prove to the others that she is well-worth the position, it backfired on her by making her superiors feel suspicious leading them to toss the hardest missions on the Princess.

The most high profile diplomatic dilemmas in Skyrim are the Stormcloaks and Winterhold. In an ironic way, fate brought a Princess to the Tower of the Dragon.

"I remember telling you to not take this mission."

Yet from the other end of the hall, a familiar voice came sounding through the hall. An Imperial woman walked in wearing a very fancy and rich fur cloak on an elegant dress. She looked like a rich bimbo for an instant but that was Jon's favorite rich bimbo.

""Vittoria!"" Jon and Princess Julia reacted to Vittoria right away.

"Hey, guys. I was worried you'd be meeting each other so I rushed here. The damage has already been done, right?" Vittoria walked in the Great Hall in her fancy outfit until she stood between Jon and Princess Julia, "Jon, this is Julia, my best friend who is not a spy. Julia, this is Jon, also my best friend who I told you not to meet."

"A pleasure." Jon nodded to Princess Julia who dejectedly smiled back at him.

"Play nice then… okay?" Vittoria said and walked to the side sitting among the Shield-Thanes.

"Are you done analyzing me, Thane Jonhild?" Princess Julia asked.

"I'm sorry about it… didn't know you're Vittoria's bestie. Still… I was upset about those Assassins to the point where I had to prove to myself I am still at the top of my game… I apologize though."

"It's okay…" Princess Julia nodded but then her tone changed, "My turn."

She took out a sealed military scroll and brought it in front of Jon.

"Do you confirm that you are receiving the Imperial Declaration 851?" She asked.

"I do. Proceed with the routine." Jon nodded.

Princess Julia broke the seal and opened the scroll then looked at Jon. He could feel a bit of anger in her tone and could see a nasty smile on Legate Sulla's face.

"By the Supreme Authority of our beloved Emperor Titus Mede II and by the order of the Empire. The Imperial Legion declares the initiation of the State of Emergency according to the Imperial Martial Law in the County of Winterhold of the Province of Skyrim…"

The Hall roared from the sudden declaration. A State of Emergency means a worst-case scenario to a growing hold like Winterhold. It means the Imperial Legion is moving in and claiming what it wants.

A lot of anger appeared all of a sudden as both the Bannermen and the Shield-Thanes were about to make a scene.

"SILENCE!" Jon shouted.

The uproar in the Hall died down right away. Jon didn't show one emotion as he looked at the Princess.

"Legate Julia, this declaration of the State of Emergency is being declared in the wrong place. You need to take that to the Jarl." Jon said.

"It already has been taken there by another envoy. Also, the second part is about Thane Jonhild and the Dare Dragon Company, Thane Jonhild." Jon spoke quietly.

Princess Julia wanted to continue but the look on Jon's face made her shiver from the core. Either way, Jon wasn't really angry or else everyone would have known.

"Regarding Viscount Jonhild Firemane and his property, the Dare Dragon Company. We, the Imperial Command Center of the Province of Skyrim hereby command Viscount Jonhild to submit his [Contract of Exclusive Exploit and Benefit] to the Imperial Legion as a contribution to the military effort. Signed by the Imperial Military Governor of the Province of Skyrim, General Tullius."

Jon looked at the Princess and kept his silence. His silence was strange and scary. Those who saw Jon committing a massacre with his bare hands during the Battle of Winterhold were very familiar with this apathetic look. What follows that face is the most unpredictable actions Jon ever takes.

He simply reached out to his side and took out a scroll from his satchel. He opened it and showed it to Princess Julia and Legate Sulla.

"This contract?" He asked.

Simply pulling out the Cornerstone of his Business Empire like that was bizarre. Most people would treasure that piece of paper and keep it in the most secure location they can ever think of.

"Jon Dare, this piece of paper is no longer valid for your use. Hand it over." Legate Sulla said as he tried to snatch the contract from Jon.

Jon simply raised his hand higher than what Legate Sulla can reach and looked to Princess Julia right in the eyes.

"It is funny, isn't it?" He said.

Funny? What does this madman find funny in this situation? Everyone was trying to get any trace of Jon's thoughts but he was already laughing so loud the whole Dare Tower was echoing with his voice. Some people even covered their heads to stop his voice from damaging their heads.

"HAH HAH HAH HAH!"

It wasn't just Jon laughing. It is the power of his Thu'um already taking over his normal voice. Voice Masters would actually get so strong causing their normal voices to go out of control. Jon was on this ridiculous level.

His laugh was fake though.

"Do you know what I think?" Jon asked, "SAHLAG! (Pathetic!) To think that a piece of paper would force the Empire to Declare the State of Emergency. HAH HAH HAH HAH!"

Jon laughed even harder and his voice was breaking those with weak wills. Legate Sulla was already on the ground covering his ears as he was right in the face of the cannon. Princess Julia, on the other hand, was frozen in her place from terror.

"Don't you find it funny, too?" Jon looked at one of the Bannermen who nodded like chicken and started laughing.

"What about you? How funny is it?" Jon turned to the Shield-Thanes and they laughed hard as if competing with the Bannermen in laughter.

"I don't think it is funny though." Jon said and suddenly everyone wasn't laughing, "Just messing with you, it is so much fun! AHAHAHAHAHA!"

Jon's laughter was akin to thunder. He laughed and everyone laughed with him.

A piece of paper forced the Empire to use its most critical law so that they can force themselves into Jon's territory and surround Windhelm and the Stormcloaks.

Jon looked at the paper then looked towards the Gate of the Great Hall.

"Don't you find it funny as well, Jarl Ulfric?"

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